


Uneasy Lies the Crown

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Kingly burdens, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 16:18:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13438566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: Loki has become King of Asgard, but he still needs you, even if he won’t always admit it.





	Uneasy Lies the Crown

 

“Imbeciles!”

The slam of the door sounded like a crack of thunder, making you cringe, your eyes darting around the room without conscious thought, unintentionally looking for the God of Thunder. You turned to see Loki walking toward you, his eyes narrowed. He knew what you were thinking. He always knew what you were thinking.

“Loki,” you murmured, taking a step toward him.

He stopped you with one hand raised, the look on his face enough to keep you at bay as he stalked across the opulently decorated room - greens and golds, some black, just a touch, and no red, absolutely none. He poured a drink from the crystal decanter on the gold-topped bar, downing the full glass in just two swallows, before moving to sit on the edge of the bed. He rested his tight fisted hands on his thighs, his shoulders squared and stiff, his eyes narrowed, staring at nothing.

“What is it?” you whispered.

“It’s nothing,” he grumbled. 

“It must be something,” you replied. “You’re angry.”

“Idiocy, mediocrity,” he snarled. “Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you took a step closer. “You’re quoting that Earthling? Shakespeare?”

“I find his works...entertaining,” Loki sighed. He pulled the gold helmut from his head and let it fall to the floor, the sound of metal hitting marble echoing through the room.

You took advantage of the noise to ease a few steps closer to Loki. He wasn’t looking your way; he was still examining something on the far wall. You lowered yourself to the bed beside him, though you didn’t touch him. You didn’t have to; he knew you were there.

Things had not been easy since Odin’s disappearance and Thor’s abandonment of Asgard. Loki had reluctantly taken the crown, doing his best for the people of Asgard. He never felt as if he was good enough to be king, the last choice of a desperate kingdom. You were his only solace as he struggled to do right by his adopted people. Your resentment of Thor grew everyday as you watched your love beaten down by the burdens of controlling a kingdom and its unruly inhabitants.

Silence filled the empty space, silence so loud it was deafening. You reached for him, your hand resting on his back between his shoulder blades, the taut muscles jumping beneath your touch. Loki dragged in a deep breath and let it out slowly, though he still didn’t turn your way.

You didn’t move, didn’t try to get closer, not yet anyway. You just let your hand lay on his back, your fingers gently caressing him. After a moment, he let his head fall, a sigh leaving him.

You slid closer, your breasts pressed against his back, your forehead resting on his shoulder. You slipped an arm around his waist, your fingers resting on the gold buckle of his belt. You concentrated on Loki, on the way he was breathing, the thump of his heart under your hand, the way his muscles slowly relaxed with every breath he blew out.

After a few minutes, his fingers curled around yours. He dragged your hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles gently.

“Loki -”

He turned suddenly, one arm sliding around your waist. He lowered you to the bed, his free hand cupping your face, his eyes staring deep into yours. His fingers slid into your hair, twisting around the strands, pulling you to him, his lips on yours, the kiss surprisingly gentle.

Loki released you, his fingers drifting down your cheek, along the line of your throat to the swell of your breasts, dancing along the lace on the bodice. Your back arched, the sudden need for him overwhelming you. You gasped his name, but his mouth covered yours once more, stealing the words, your breath, your sanity, your soul. You belonged to him.

You reached for him, but he caught both of your hands in one of his, pulling them over your head and holding them in place.

“Loki, please,” you begged.

His mouth closed around your pulse point, sucking greedily, his fingers impatiently working at the buttons on the bodice of your dress. He ripped it open, shredding the finely woven material, his touch like fire on your skin, his lips burning a trail down your throat to your breasts.

“My Lord!” The heavy oak door rattled in its frame as whoever stood on the other side pounded on it.

An irritated growl erupted from Loki, then he was rising to his feet, crossing the room, and yanking open the door. The guard fell back a step, his face a mask of fear.

“I-I’m sorry, m’lord, your presence is needed in the throne room, immediately,” he stuttered.

More words were exchanged, though you didn’t hear them as you moved to cover yourself, standing and attempting to pull your torn dress over your naked breasts. When you turned around, Loki was beside you, his hunger for you still evident in the lines of his face. He took your hands in his, his thumbs circling your knuckles.

“I need to go,” he murmured. “A king’s duty -”

“- is never done,” you finished.

Loki cupped your chin in his hand, tipping your head back and catching your lips in his, the kiss tender and sweet. You took his face in your hands, sighing as the kiss deepened.

“I won’t be long,” he said. He turned toward the door, shoulders straightening, a decided swagger in his gait, his entire demeanor changing. He was no longer Loki, the man you loved, he was now Loki, the King.

Your King.


End file.
